


The Once and Future King

by Kikibaya



Series: Julie and The Phantoms Crossovers [1]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV), Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bobby is Not Trevor Wilson, Caleb Morgan is Caleb Covington, Canonical Character Death, Chaos ensues!, Chapter 4 is here!!, Destiny, F/M, Gen, Get ready to say awww because this chapter is CUUUTEEE!, Julie attends Los Reyes as well as the other teenage characters from jatp, M/M, Merlin/Julie and The Phantoms Crossover, Other, Platonic Relationships, Prologue set during the last episode of Merlin season five to modern day 2020, The Boys Are Alive, The boys enter the scene, romantic relationships, willex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:53:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28232739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kikibaya/pseuds/Kikibaya
Summary: The end has come for our hero. Merlin believes he has failed, only to realize his quest has just begun. With the death of his best friend, Merlin begins his search for the reincarnate of Arthur--of whom he believes he will encounter in the halls of Los Reyes High School.Update: Chapter 4 is here! Willie comes face to face with Merlin. Alex is having wardrobe issues. Luke mocks a certain person's pining.
Relationships: Alex & Carlos Molina & Julie Molina & Ray Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Alex & Flynn & Julie Molina & Nick & Luke Patterson & Reggie & Willie & Carrie Wilson, Alex & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie & Willie, Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Alex Mercer & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters, Caleb Covington & Willie, Caleb Morgan & Merlin, Gwaine & Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwaine & Percival (Merlin), Gwen & Leon (Merlin), Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Kayla & Nick & Carrie Wilson, Kilgharrah & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Morgana & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Ray Molina & Everyone
Series: Julie and The Phantoms Crossovers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068167
Comments: 11
Kudos: 29





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The prologue takes place during the end of the last episode of season five. Most of the dialogue is taken from this episode; however, specific details and events are changed/added to fit with this fanfic. This portion of the fic was written by my sister, so kudos to her for this marvelous introduction!!! I hope you enjoy this crazy Merlin/Julie and The Phantoms Crossover. Note: I tend to update often, but you are pretty much GUARANTEED updates weekly.

Arthur looked up towards a distance beyond the forest, as if recounting his first meeting with Merlin, that day a young street boy in rags and a simple scarf challenged his authority — that insolent, naive boy who didn’t even recognize his future king. He huffed, and with an eye roll said, “So you’re not an idiot, that was another lie.” He mulled over what Merlin had said just before, how he could see the “path beyond.” Things started to make sense. All those times Merlin had warned Arthur, and with no reason behind his fears. Yet they always held merit as they always came true, just as Merlin foretold it. 

Merlin looked back to address him. He smirked, in the simple way he always did — but something about the slight curve in his mischievous lips, and the slight raise of his brows that framed sparkly eyes filled with the foresight as powerful as the oracles of the Greek, gave great complexity to his simple-minded appearance. “No. Just another part of my charm.” Merlin always had an uncanny ability to joke even in the gravest of times. Even when his best friend was dying.

Arthur feigned a smile. They both knew the truth by the looks in one another’s eyes, by the slight change in one another’s voices. But neither would admit it. They clung to hope as if it were the last thread of a rope slowly untangling and lowering them into the gaping mouth of destiny’s jaws. And with no one at the foot of the precipice, there was no one to save them from falling off the cliff. 

Merlin clicked his tongue, and the horses clopped away obediently.

In the meanwhile, Arthur’s loyal knights lay in the clutches of Morgana the evil High Priestess. Gwaine, a friend to Merlin and later a knight at the side of his king, Arthur, was tied up, strung like a caught stag and left to be slaughtered. Sweat clung to his brow, but his heart was unafraid. Gwaine was the embodiment of strength. Even if he was dying, he would not give the witch her satisfaction. He coughed and spit as he gained consciousness. After realizing his situation, he looked up groggily to the face of Morgana. 

“Tell me where the king is.” She spoke. Her voice was the essence of darkness, of evil.

“I would rather die.” Gwaine responded without hesitation.

“Then you shall have your wish,” her eyes showed no hint of mercy, “once you’ve told me.” She came to her knees. “Not even you, Sir Knight, can resist the charms of the Nathair.”

And that is when he noticed it: the box. It was a simple thing with bronze adornments and no symbols or depictions of what lay inside. But Gwaine knew in an instant the contents of the box. He could tell by the sound protruding from it. A small, but skin-chilling sound. Hissssss.  
The box was open. The Nathair smiled at its victim, barring two fangs sharp as daggers. In its mind it was laughing. Mortals were the most amusing beasts. The fear in their eyes, like rabbits before the strike. 

Gwaine struggled to no avail against the ropes. His wrists burned, amplified by the sweat that stung in the very crevices of his wounds. It was not the face of the Nathair that petrified him in his spot, but the face of Morgana, whose look of satisfaction was a dagger to his heart.

Somewhere close Percival was in a similar situation. Strung up like a wild animal. However, this time Percival looked more as Samson must have looked blinded and chained against two pillars in the Temple of Dagon. His consciousness returned to him at the sound of Gwaine’s screaming. His breath was heavy as the circulation to his arms drained. He tugged at his constraints with either hand, feeling the strength of the ropes. He grunted as his biceps strained, he pulled forward with all his might in efforts to escape. Gwaine’s screaming added to Percival’s adrenaline. Percival. A knight whose heart was bigger than the muscles that could not be contained by chainmail sleeves. He would die for his king. No, he would die for his fellow knight. Percival could no longer hear Gwaine, and his gut pained with fear more intense than he had ever felt in battle. Just as Samson had torn himself from his restraints and fell under the collapsing temple, Percival vowed to break his restraints — even at the cost of his own life. But such a sacrifice was not necessary. The ropes snapped with one last pull, and he fell — stunned — to his knees. 

Gwaine screamed again.

…

Merlin held a hand to signal for them to stop, causing the horses to whinny in disagreement. Arthur obliged, and doubled over, swaying in his saddle. Distant shouting could be heard in the distance. 

“In there.” Merlin gestured. The sound was from soldiers, hot on their pursuit. The two hid behind thick brush in the woods. Merlin peered his head out from behind a bush and laid his eyes on the hoofprints their horses had left behind. He whispered an incantation, his eyes glowing with golden fire. Leaves danced over the muddy prints. Arthur looked over his shoulder in muted amazement. Merlin’s quick thinking caused the soldiers to turn away from their hideout. 

Arthur mused, “You’ve done this before.”

Merlin looked away.

“All these years, Merlin. You’ve never once sought any credit.”

“It’s not why I do it.” Was all he said. “Come on.” Merlin slung Arthur’s arm ‘round his back and grunted as he helped him along. 

…

Percival held Gwaine’s limp head in his arms. He groaned unresponsive in pain. “She’s riding for Avalon.” He mustered weakly. 

Percival did not respond. He simply replied in horror, “Gwaine.”

“I failed.” 

“No, you haven’t.” Percival did not loosen his hold. If he did, Gwaine’s soul would leave in an instant.

Gwaine’s eyes dimmed, and shut as death’s grasp was stronger than Percival’s.

He cried out, “Gwaine. Gwaine!” But to no avail. Tears fell unashamed from his eyes. He rested his forehead against his brother’s. They were not of the same blood, but their goals, their dreams, their loyalties they shared. 

…

“Arthur?” Merlin looked back. Arthur was bent over on his horse, his breath shallowing. “I can’t go on.” He exhaled. 

Merlin looked into his pale eyes. “There’s not far to go. We need to reach the lake before dawn.” 

“No, Merlin. No.”

Merlin blinked in a pained daze. His head was hit with a sudden fire. His eyes flickered with magical foresight. In his dying friend’s eyes he saw another — another pair. One that was dark brown pools. They carried within them life, which bewildered Merlin. All he saw in Arthur’s eyes was emptiness. Who was the owner of such eyes, which carried within them such youthfulness — and yet ancient sparkle of the time of the old religion. He blinked again and the eyes were gone. “Alright.” He held a hand to his head, the fire still faintly there. “We rest for an hour.”

… 

Morgana rode towards Avalon. 

… 

“Merlin.”   
Merlin looked into his friend’s eyes.

“Whatever happens —”

“Shh.” Merlin insisted. “Don’t talk.”

“I am the king, Merlin. You can’t tell me what to do.” As always, they were like school children when times got tough. It was their coping mechanism, a way to obscure reality.

“I always have.” Merlin chuckled. “I am not going to change now.”

Arthur became grave. “I don’t want you to change.” Perhaps he referred to the cleverness of his friend, or the silliness. But his words covered the expanse of pain he had caused his friend all these years by hating magic. “I want you to always...” he paused, “be you.” His vision faded in and out, and his head swayed with the pain brought on by the action of remembering. “I am sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you.” He swayed.

Merlin caught him. “Hey,” he whispered, “does that mean you’re gonna give me a day off?”

Arthur sighed. “Two.” 

“That’s generous.” 

They chuckled.

Arthur’s head dropped.

“Get some sleep.” Merlin sighed. He would get no sleep tonight, as visions filtered in his mind of all that happened — and all that was to come.

… 

Sounds of hooves disturbed the nighttime peace.

… 

“Arthur, we need to get moving.” Merlin shook his friend. “Arthur.” He slung his arm around his back, now accustomed to the pain the effort to move Arthur caused him. “We need to keep moving.” He heaved him to his feet. 

… 

Percival crouched to the ground. Being a knight of Camelot he had learned many things. One such thing was to tell the direction of a man — or women — by the direction the dirt had been disturbed on the footpath. Even without hoofprints, he could tell which way he must go. He pounded his fists to the ground. Gwaine’s death would not be for nothing. 

… 

Arthur on his horse looked like the undead. However such a word was unfitting. Arthur wasn’t “undead,” merely existing in a place that was the exact middle between life and death. 

Merlin dragged him from his horse and laid where he could see the mystical Avalon like a beacon across the lake. “Avalon.” He mused. “We’ll get there.” 

All of the sudden the horses spooked, fleeing their masters with unbridled whinnying. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Merlin screamed as he chased after them. “WHOA!” He skidded in the dirt. And then he discovered the source of the horses’ fears. It was like staring into another part of himself, like a distorted reflection. Moreso, it was like staring at something of his own creation that had gone very wrong, much as the look Dr. Frankenstein must have given his monster. 

“Hello, Emrys.” 

Hearing the name leave her lips sent shivers down his spine. She was never supposed to know who he really was. He had gone great lengths to ensure that, and age transformation was not an easy task. For a while it had drained him such that at times, even in boy form, he felt the weight of many years on his body. He barely had time to turn around. She magicked him off his feet with one glance.

Arthur panted as he laid against a rock. Seeing Merlin hurt was like seeing a dagger go through his stomach. He gasped for air.

“It’s good to see you, Arthur.” She approached him. “Look at you —” she towered over his shivering body “not so tall and mighty now.” 

He didn’t offer her a look.

“You may have won the battle, but you’ve lost the war.” Her voice was shrill and carried an ungodly cacophony with every word. She smiled venomously. “You’re going to die by Mordred’s hand.”

At this he raised his head and dared to stare at her straight in the eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry dear brother,” she said feigning innocence, “I won’t let you die alone. I will stay and watch over you…” Her voice took on a menacing quality, “until the wolves gorge on your carcass and bathe in your blood.”   
Merlin emerged from behind her, Excalibur weighing perfectly balanced in his hands. “No. The time for all this bloodshed is over.”

She turned to face him.

“I blame myself for what you’ve become.” He pointed the sword in her direction, but more so in defense. “But this has to end.”

“I am a high priestess.” She raised her head, looking down upon him. “No mortal blade can kill me.” 

He ran Excalibur through her chest, grunting with the immense effort the penetration required. He stared her in the eyes. “This is no mortal blade.” His brow furrowed in explanation. “Like yours, it was forged in a dragon’s breath.” He pushed the blade in further and caused Morgana to fall to the floor. 

Her breath was shaky. 

“Goodbye, Morgana.” He said as she attempted to take her last breaths. 

Thunder roared in the distance as the priestess exhaled for the last time. 

Merlin dropped the sword as he ran to his king’s side. Arthur was unresponsive, no more than a dead weight. To see Morgana die took a part of him with her to the earth. 

He whispered, “Brought peace at last.”

Merlin hoisted him up. “Come on.” They stumbled up the clearing. “Come on.” He repeated with a grunt. “We have to make it to the lake.”

“Merlin.” Arthur whispered. 

The two fell to the ground at the top of the clearing. 

“Not without the horses.” He said in his authoritative way.

Merlin replied softly, “We can’t. It’s too late.” He panted beneath the weight of Arthur on his chest. He held him in his arms like a mother holds a son. “It’s too…” He panted.

Arthur held his chest for a moment. His arms flailed beside him in struggle. “All your magic, Merlin, and you can’t save my life.” He mused.

“I can.” Merlin said affirmatively. “I’m not going to lose you.” 

“Just — just, just hold me.” He said weakly. “Please.”

Merlin blinked. Sweat fell from his forehead and slid off Arthur’s chestplate. He rested his chin on Arthur’s shoulder. 

“There’s so — there is something I want to say.” Arthur said as he looked into the distance.

“You’re not —” Merlin huffed, “you’re not going to say goodbye.” He ordered.

“No...Merlin.” He breathed. He looked over his shoulder into his eyes. The action caused him to shiver in pain. He blinked in and out of consciousness. “Everything you’ve done,” he bit his lip in slight hesitation — his pride had always been the thing he would never give up, until he met Merlin — “I know now. For me, for Camelot…” His brow furrowed with strain. “For the kingdom you helped me build —”

“You’d have done it without me.” Merlin interrupted.

Arthur chuckled sadly. “Maybe.” He smiled. “I want to say something I’ve never said to you before.” He blinked. Turning to him, he choked on his words, “Th — Thank you.” He rustled Merlin’s hair. His hand fell, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. 

“Arthur. Hey. No. Arthur.” Merlin put his hand to his cheek in an attempt to wake him.

“ARTHUR!” He cried out.

Arthur’s eyes blinked awake, and for a moment it seemed as if Merlin’s pleading had worked.

“Stay with me.” He whispered. 

His eyes rolled back once more.

“Arthur. No.” 

The two bodies laid in the field in a scene from a storybook. Excalibur lay in the grass as if another body — another casualty of fate. 

Merlin tried to lift him. He grunted in strain. “Arthur.” It was as if he knew only the word. He would not stop saying it. To stop was to admit his king, his friend — his brother — was gone. He raised his head in agony, shouting in a dragon tongue that no mortal would understand. He shouted each word between sobs. After he was done he held Arthur’s pale head in his arms. He pressed his forehead against Arthur’s, much like Percival had to Gwaine, but then, the visions returned. It was as if Arthur’s memories swarmed from his brain to Merlin’s. But they weren’t Arthur’s memories, they didn’t even seem to be from the same time, nor world. The place he saw was strange and foreign. It wasn’t Camelot. There were words, pasted across a large piece of parchment that seemed to be made of the whiteset papyrus Merlin had ever seen. The words were painted in a substance that sparkled like thousands of diamonds in the sunlight. To see them in his vision made him squint. Two words he made out before the vision faded: Los Reyes. It was in a tongue he didn’t know. He blinked. Unbeknownst to him his eyes had been flashing again, going from blue to fiery orange-gold. When the vision faded he was left with more questions, and another headache. Kilgharrah’s roar had freed him from his daze.

“Kilgharrah.” Merlin said in exasperation. “I would not have summoned you if there was any other choice.” He recalled his relationship with the Great Dragon, the voice that summoned him to his destiny when he first arrived at Camelot. He remembered all the pain the dragon had caused him, the havoc he wreaked on Camelot when Merlin granted him his freedom. Yet, he too had caused the dragon more pain than anyone should have to endure. His constant disobedience to bow to his fate had made his and Kilgharrah’s relationship hard to define. Yet in an odd way, they shared a mutual respect as creatures of the old religion. 

The dragon lowered his head as if to address the young warlock. His eyes shared a similar golden glow to those of Merlin’s. 

Merlin looked at his old friend — if friend was the word. “I have one last favor to ask.” 

Without a word, Kilgharrah carried Merlin and Arthur through the clouded sky. Their destination: the shores of Avalon. 

“Merlin.” He spoke. His voice as always was filled with great wisdom. “There is nothing you can do.” 

Merlin held Arthur in his arms. He looked up at the great beast. “I’ve failed?” He asked simply.

“No, young warlock,” His eyes glowed, “for all that you have dreamt of building has come to pass.”

Merlin lifted Arthur to his feet. He grunted, “I can’t lose him! He’s my friend!”

The dragon continued indifferently. “Though no man, no matter how great, can know his destiny...some lives have been foretold, Merlin.” 

Merlin looked down at the lifeless body of Arthur. He swayed under the weight.

“Arthur is not just a king.” The dragon continued. “He is the once and future king.” 

Merlin’s mind flashed to the visions he saw earlier, those brown eyes. What did they mean? And Los Reyes? Was it a city? A distant land? Or a name? His brain itched with confusion.

“Take heart,” Kilgharrah sensed Merlin’s mind at work, “for when Albion’s need is greatest...Arthur will rise again.” 

Merlin looked down in a daze.

“It has been a privilege to have known you, young warlock. The story we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men.” At this he turned, flapped his great wings, and departed. The clouds had parted in the sky, and at last the melancholy that shrouded Camelot was pierced by the blue skies of a new day. 

Merlin’s arms gave out, and he laid Arthur as gently to the floor as he could. With a last look in the direction of the Great Dragon, he at last accepted his fate. He stared across the lake at Avalon, a tower stood at the very center of the island. Excalibur in hand, he brushed his thumb against the hilt of the sword. His quest would not have been complete without the blade, it was as if he had to say goodbye to another friend. But there was no alternative. Excalibur in the hands of an enemy could prove fatal. The light of the sun reflected off the sword and lit his face in the bleak early morning light. He turned once more to the lake, and with a mighty throw thrust the blade into the blue expanse. He stared in awe as the Lady of the Lake accepted her gift, catching the sword just before it pierced the water and lowering it into its watery hiding place. The last sight of Excalibur and the Lady was a soft ripple upon the water’s surface. 

Arthur’s body laid in a simple boat. It was not a king’s burial, like Uther Pendragon — Arthur’s father — had been given, but it carried with it a simplicity that was in its own way beautiful. 

Merlin held in tears as he laid his hand on Arthur’s forehead. The sensation of touch was overwhelming, and he began to sob. It was an ugly cry, but he cried nonetheless. His eyes flickered as if before a vision, but nothing came to him. He looked over his shoulder, as if expecting Arthur to jump out of the woods and laugh at Merlin for falling for his shenanigans. But he quickly dismissed this idea, and took his hands from Arthur’s body. “Arthur.” He mustered. With pain in his voice, he whispered the inevitable incantation, the same he had said many times at the burial of a friend. He thought briefly of Freya, the druid girl he loved that died on this very shore. Perhaps the Lake of Avalon would show Arthur the same mercy, and immortalize him within its waters, as it had done when taking Freya as their Lady. Yet in the back of his mind he knew this was not the case. Nonetheless, Freya would protect him as he slept eternally below the water.   
The boat began its journey. 

… 

Sitting at the head of the throne room in Camelot castle, Gwenevere rolled the ring between her fingers. It was Arthur’s, it bore the Pendragon crest: a black dragon. With a single glance she acknowledged her loyalist knight, Sir Leon, who in turn looked gravely at Percival. 

Sir Leon cleared his throat. “The king is dead.” His voice was like a lion. “Long live the queen!” He bellowed. 

The knights and citizens echoed, “Long live the queen. Long live the queen. Long live the queen!” 

…

It was a long time from now, and standing where the great king of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon, had died — across a lake long dried up — rested a still standing tower like a beacon on a hill. With a loud honk, a semi truck obstructed the view for a moment, and then roared forward across a paved road. On this paved road walked a man of many years. His locks were long and flowing like a horse’s mane, and starkly white like fresh snow. He had a beard to match. In modern times, one might compare him to a cross between Santa Clause and Leonardo da Vinci, but he wasn’t fat, or jolly. And he didn’t paint the Mona Lisa. Instead, he walked down the road like a man with a mission — despite looking somewhat homeless in his outdated trench coat, satchel, and cap. He passed by the tower, and for a moment he paused. He had spent many years searching in vain for the future king of Camelot. Kilgharrah had said that such a king would appear when Albion’s need was greatest, and something about the taste in the air gave Merlin a newfound hope that he hadn’t carried with him since the day Arthur died. He continued walking. Just down the road was his destination, the place he had been searching for all his life. He crossed the street, climbed the steps, and stared giddily at the words on the facade: Los Reyes High School. The first part of the riddle was solved. The where. Now, he had to find the who. And he knew those brown eyes were in there. The eyes that belonged to the future king of Camelot.


	2. You Got The Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin begins his quest in the halls of Los Reyes High School. A mysterious janitor confronts Alex. Bobby steals a very unique-looking coin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH!!! I loved this so much! Oddly enough, the Jatp characters work so well in this crossover! I'm so excited for where this is going. Stay tuned because things get real juicy real fast!! Note: My sister has been killing it! I'm working on another jatp fic rn, so she is writing this one!

“So.” A voice that resonated off the small walls of the compact office room echoed eerily in Merlin’s ears. It carried with it an odd sense of familiarity, as if coming from a friend — or foe — he had known in another life. Yet, he shrugged the feeling. This person he had never met before, it was clear to him by the odd garb in which the man dressed. He wore pants as silky as something Merlin thought Gwenevere might have worn, if women of her title were to wear pants, and his jacket was made of matching material. Beneath the suit jacket was a vest with a purple flower design made of tread that sparkled like the words in the poster in Merlin’s vision. Beneath the vest the man wore a buttoned blouse, and to polish his look was a pocket chain made of silver. His hair was black as a raven’s, sleeked like the feathers against the bird’s sinewy back. And his eyes, the eyes were piercing. They haunted him, as the grey pools threatened to pull him in and never let him go. The man continued. “You are thinking about joining the staff here at Los Reyes.” His mouth curled in a smile. “Well, think no more, friend. You got the job.” He flourished his hand like a performer. “Over there,” he pointed to a closet on the wall facing his door, “is your “office.” For a moment it seemed as if he stifled a laugh, “And all your supplies will be in there.”  
Merlin nodded as if he understood. He had walked through the doors of Los Reyes in hopes of having total freedom to carry out his quest for the new Arthur; he did not expect to be coerced into a job that would keep him busy. However, perhaps it was smarter to go undercover in a place he did not know. Who knows the dangers of what lurked in the hallways of Los Reyes. He had not seen a dragon or a basilisk, or even a druid whilst living in the forest for the past millennium; however, he was not going to let his guard down. Anyways, the next immediate danger he faced was learning what exactly a janitor was. The way in which the man described the position made it sound a lot like the position Merlin served in the castle, as a servant. 

“My name is Principal Morgan.” His eyes flashed. “But, let’s be frank.” He hit Merlin on the shoulder, “You can call me Caleb.”

…

Water covered the floor, making the hallways of Los Reyes a danger zone. It was 8:00. In five minutes, school would start. But was Merlin aware of this? Not really. He pushed the mop bucket with his foot, sending it flying across the hall on squeaky wheels. “Why is such a profoundly difficult contraption used to mop the floor? A pail serves just as well.” He huffed. He backed up and hit his back against the small industrial sink that took up half the closet space. “Arrgh.” He rubbed his back. “That’s going to bruise.” He sighed. He recalled then the time he spent as Arthur’s servant where he completed his chores with the aid of magic. If only he could do such now without the fear of exposing his identity. If history did in fact repeat itself, would magic be feared now just as it had long ago? He couldn’t be sure. He fought with a feather duster as it tickled his face. He spit out a stray feather particle. “Plegh.” This was worse than the room Gaius prepared for him upon his arrival to Camelot; although, to be fair, Gaius wasn’t really expecting him. He didn’t even know what day it was. Oh how he missed that wise, old fool. 

A sound that seemed to come from the sky itself, pierced the eardrums of the Los Reyes staff. To most, it meant school was starting. To Merlin, he could think of no other reason for it than a siege on the modern castle. He grappled for a weapon among the brooms and mops that littered the cabinet. He took a bottle of window cleaner in his hands. “What is this concoction? It’s bluer than the waters of the Lake of Avalon. Perhaps this will come in handy.” He secured the bottle on the notch of his utility belt Caleb had given him. Caleb, Principal Morgan. Something didn’t settle right in Merlin’s stomach. Although, he could have just been hungry.  
Students flooded the halls, but they moved without haste.  
Merlin wondered why the commoners had no fear. He pushed past them in the opposite direction. “Hey!” His voice screeched but didn’t match the loudness of the chattering folk. He turned to a young boy in a pink tunic with cut off sleeves and ripped jeans. He must be a peasant who can’t afford more than rags. He thought. “You, boy.” He said, taking the boy’s arm as he doubled over in a coughing fit. 

The boy was alarmed, but didn’t withdraw. Rather, he patted the odd man on the back. “Are — are you OK?” His blue eyes sparkled. 

“No, boy. Are you daft? I want to know why you aren’t fleeing the castle. We’re under attack!”

The boy stared at him like he was insane. He ran a hand through his blonde, wispy locks. “Umm…”

Merlin shook his head. “No, just dumb. Sorry boy. I didn’t realize your situation.” He reached in his satchel, which bulged awkwardly next to his belt. “Here’s a coin. Buy yourself something without holes in it.” 

The boy held the coin in his hand. He didn’t move. 

“Oh, sorry.” He put his hand around the boy’s, forcing him to hold out his hand in a cupped position. “Take the coin to the marketplace, and buy a nice fabric. None of this lady’s color either.” He gestured to the boy’s t-shirt. “With the change you should be able to afford the seamstress’ price to make yourself a decent tunic. If you need it tailored you’re on your own.” He spat, not unfriendly though. He was simply old. He closed the boy’s fingers around the coin and patted him on the shoulder. “Now answer me, boy. Why is nobody fleeing?”

The boy laughed awkwardly. “Well, uh, Sir. The bell is for school. Uh, school’s starting soon. And, um, I’m going to be late — so…” He turned around sharp on his Converse shoes, making a squeak on the tile floor. He looked back and the poor senile man. “Oh, um…” he waved, “thanks for the — uh, the coin thingy.” With a small skip he headed towards class.

The boy’s wave caught Merlin off guard. On the boy’s index finger was a ring, a familiar ring. And that’s when he realized: that ring was Arthur's! It bore his crest, the black Pendragon dragon, there was no mistake. He yelled after the boy, but was swept up in the crowd of frantic students late for class. “Arthur!” He screamed, but it was too late. 

…

“So, uh-huh-he.” It was some sort of laugh, but it turned into a word from another language. Alex twiddled with the ring on his finger. With his thumb he moved the ring around and around the base of his index finger, feeling the indentations surrounding the dragon in hopes to find comfort. 

Luke scratched at the place where his beanie dented his floppy brown hair along his forehead. “What, Alex?” He asked, sitting improperly in his desk, facing Alex with his legs straddled against the back of the chair. His eyes were somewhere between hazel and brown, depending on the light. As he looked at Alex, his eyes were brown.

“So I was coming from my locker, right.” He began, “And this dude — the new janitor guy — grabs my arm.” He imitated the gesture by grabbing Luke’s.  
The two exchanged glances, and Alex let go sheepishly.

“Continue, Alex.” Luke rolled his eyes, he chewed a guitar pick absentmindedly in his mouth.  
“Well…” He was nervous now, and nervous Alex liked to talk fast. “He asked me why we weren’t running away — I guess because of the bell or something — and he gave me this weird coin,” he reached in his fanny pack he had raced back to grab from his locker after the strange encounter, “and I think he insulted me—” Alex huffed.

Luke lightly punched him in the shoulder. “Slow down, bro. My head’s spinning from all that you just said. I don’t even know if those were all words coming from your mouth just then.”

Alex let out a sound like that of a dog whine mixed with a balloon being deflated. “Sorry, Luke.” He said self-consciously. He placed the coin in Luke’s hand. “Look.”

Luke spit the pick from his mouth in disbelief. “Alex, this is like some Medieval stuff.” He flipped the coin in the air and watched it fall back in his hand. 

Reggie came up behind Luke, startling him. He dropped the coin and it rolled a surprising distance across the tile floor. He attempted a surprise hug, but Luke caught his hands in his and twisted around to face the front of his desk again. He pulled Reggie against the desk and came close to his face, he was still holding his hands tightly. “Reggie!” Luke said in annoyance. He dropped Reggie’s hands so that they swung to his side. The shout startled Reggie, and he fell to the floor, landing on his butt. 

“Sorry, man.” Reggie said with a whine. He scrambled to his feet, rubbing his sore tushy. “I was just going in for—”

“A surprise hug?” Luke finished.

“Yeah.” He replied simply. 

Alex started freaking out. “The coin, Reggie, the coin!”

Reggie stuttered. “Th-the wha?”

The coin ended its journey on the other side of the room, in front of the door to the classroom. As if fate, the door swung open. It was the least favorite member of the band: Bobby. He covered the coin with his foot. 

“Late again, Bobby?” The teacher asked as she lowered her glasses to the bridge of her nose and looked up front her attendance sheet. 

“Yea.” Bobby replied, bending down to pick up the object under his foot. He twiddled it in his fingers, running it over his knuckles like a common street rat. He ran his hand through his hair. “Is this yours?” He asked Alex from across the room. 

Alex slumped in his chair. “Y-yea?” It was posed like a question.

“Cool.” Bobby said as he pocketed the item.

Alex started to protest, but Luke held a hand to his chest. “Don’t bother.” He said.  
Bobby glared at the boys with grey eyes. “Don’t worry, Alex.” He said laughing. “I’m just gonna borrow it for a bit.”

“Sure.” Alex mumbled under his breath.

At this point, Reggie was already distracted by the black beetle flailing on its back in eye’s view under the teacher’s desk. Come on little dude, get up. He said in his mind. His green eyes glittered with amusement. 

Not far after Bobby, another student entered the classroom. It was that one girl, the girl who always sat at the back of the classroom, the girl who hid under her mane of curly, brown hair. The girl who, in Luke’s mind, had always been kinda cute. 

Flynn, the girl’s best friend — only friend at Los Reyes — nudged her gentle. Flynn was the exact opposite of the girl, Julie. She was loud, and the best host at parties, and the girl who wore her heart — and opinions — on her sleeve. She shook the sleeping mound on the desk. “Wake up, wake up, come on Julie!” She said in a sing-song voice. “Wake up, it’s time for you to read!” She snorted.

The teacher glared at Julie, pointing at the assigned book the class had been reading for the last week. “Julius Caesar is not going to stab himself, darling!” The teacher indicated for her to read for Brutus, as they had been making their way through Shakespeare’s works throughout the semester. This week was Julius Caesar. 

“Oh, alright.” Julie said sleepily.

Bobby smiled. “This is the best part.” He turned to the girl in the classroom expectantly. He chuckled, “Don’t mess it up.” 

“Oh and before we continue, class,” the teacher said, “we must be on our best behavior.” She glanced at the three boys at the front of the room.  
The students exchanged weary glances.

Alex raised a shaky hand. “Why, Mrs. Harrison?”

She cleared her throat. “Because, Alex. The principal is observing our class today.”  
The three bros shared a simultaneous gulp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMGOODNESS! I hope you're enjoying this (I know I am)! My sister keeps impressing me with everything she is writing. Stay tuned and feel free to give us comments, kudos, suggestions, etc! Updates will be pretty much daily or every other day because my sis is inspired <3


	3. The Things I Could Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Principal Morgan pays the class a visit. Merlin attempts to unlock the magical powers of Windex. Bobby witnesses something that will change the meaning of everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! You guys!!! And if you don't celebrate, I hope you have a great day and great New Year <3 This new chapter is insane! Enjoy <3

Caleb had this thing with students — he felt as if they were the enemy, in a way. Freeloaders, the lot of them. Wasting his time going to school when they did not carry an enthusiasm for learning. What was worse, Los Reyes was a performing arts school, meaning students held low regard for their core classes like English and math. They’d rather strum on their guitars and consider themselves the next Jimi Hendrix. Argh! He thought. I am wasting my talents in this stink hole. The things I could do… his eyes glowed orange-gold with power, would bring this school to its knees. He chuckled under his breath as he opened the door to Mrs. Harrison’s classroom. 

…

Merlin had finally gotten his wits about him. His mind was once again at work, the cogs of his machine-of-a-brain once again spinning. “Oh,” he mused. “The alarm is raised to tell the people to get to their rooms. And,” he scratched his chin, “this is no castle.” His cleverness amused himself. “No, this is a school. And each room has its own scholar.” He walked the empty hallways. I must find the physician of this place immediately,” he decided suddenly, “I have to figure out the properties of this mystical Wind-Wind Ex?” His brow furrowed, how does it “ex” the wind, does it take the breath out of a man…? Intriguing…

…

Alex stared at Bobby across the room, he had been fiddling with the coin for the last ten minutes, rolling the archaic coin across his knuckles over and over. Alex mumbled under his breath, “I should have walked over there and shown Bobby who’s boss. But, it’s Bobby. He didn’t mean any harm...right?” 

The coin hit noisily on the desk as Principal Morgan’s entrance startled Bobby. He covered the treasure in his hands in hopes it wouldn’t be confiscated. 

“Good morning, class.” Caleb said with a smile and a flourish of his hands. 

The students droned “Good morning Principal Morgan” in reply.

“Now according to Mrs. Harrison, you all are supposed to be reading Julius Caesar in class today? Hmm?”

“Yea!” Reggie was the only one to respond. He sat back in his desk chair with satisfaction on his face. I am a good student. Played over and over in his mind.

The look Principal Morgan shot him sent shivers down Alex’s spine. It’s like he is peering into my soul. He shuddered dramatically.

Luke didn’t look in the principal’s direction. Principal Morgan would probably give me detention if I even looked in his direction. Best to keep my head low.

Bobby looked at his feet and noticed a small black beetle make its way over to his desk. He squashed it without a second thought. Uggh! These are new. He attempted to brush the beetle guts off his “new” shoes — by new, Bobby meant stolen. He felt the eyes of the principal bore in the back of his head. “What?!” Bobby snapped in Principal Morgan’s direction.

“My, my, my.” Caleb approached Bobby’s desk and lowered himself to be face to face with the kid. “Manners, Mr. Wilson.” Their grey eyes locked gazes. For a second, something in the principal’s eyes scared Bobby. It was like an intense fire, trying to burn straight into his soul.   
Caleb kept his gaze. He began an incantation under his breath. In an ancient language he spoke: Look into my eyes, forget all else, tell me your secret… as he whispered the incantation, his mind raced. It has been a thousand years since I felt the last drops of magic leave this earth. And yet, today I sensed it...like an old friend. And part of this feeling has led me here, to him. I will soon learn why…

Bobby suddenly grasped at his throat, it was on fire. His eyes teetered from grey to orange-gold, but nobody seemed to notice. “Wh—why, why are you doing this?” He spluttered. To the rest of the class it merely looked as if Principal Morgan was laying on punishments — and well deserved ones at that. Friday night school, detention...Bobby was worthy of the worst.   
Caleb felt his control over Bobby strengthen. This is it! His eyes glowed with hunger. Any essence of magic left in this world is rightfully mine…

Julie looked up from her script. She suddenly felt really parched. She raised her hand. “Mrs. Harrison.” She squeaked. Her hand hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity.  
Flynn gave Julie a pity look. She sighed. Without raising her hand, she called across the classroom, “Mrs. H?” 

She was acknowledged immediately.

“‘Thanks H. My friend here, Julie, is a little thirsty. Can she be excused for a sec?”  
Mrs. Harrison laughed and nodded. “Sure, Flynn.” She gestured towards Julie and then to the door with her head. “Go on,” she said, not unfriendly. 

“Thanks.” Julie mumbled as she shuffled awkwardly out of her seat and past her classmates. When she got to the door, Principal Morgan was in her way. She could have easily said “excuse me” and waited for him to clear a path. But, she was Julie Molina. And Julie Molina never said a word to the principal. She brushed past him, hitting his shoulder as she exited the classroom.  
Caleb’s focus was disturbed, and his magical hold on Bobby broke. 

Bobby gasped for air. He attempted to throw a fist, but Caleb caught his arm forcefully by the wrist.  
“Don’t you ever speak a word of this to anyone. Do you understand?” His voice was filled with menace. “If you do,” his eyes sparkled with knowledge, “I will tell the world about your little underage drinking problem.” 

Bobby turned pale. 

Caleb squeezed his wrist one last time for emphasis, like a snake would squeeze a rabbit once in its clutches. 

With the force of the action, Bobby dropped the coin that had been hiding within his clenched fist. 

Caleb watched it fall — as if in slow motion — to the floor. He bent down, picked it up, and smiled. After pocketing the treasure he turned to address the gaping class that had witnessed Bobby almost have a physical altercation with the principal. He smiled. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Carry on with your play.” He turned to face Bobby once more. “Mr. Wilson, detention during lunch.” He opened the classroom door to leave. As he left, he shot the quivering boy on last glace. “Shhh.” He said softly, putting a finger to his lips. “Our little secret.” He mouthed, and closed the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you enjoyed this story! Get ready folks cause Willex will be coming soon!!!


	4. Damsel in Distress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willie comes face to face with Merlin. Alex is having wardrobe issues. Luke mocks a certain person's pining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for extreme cuteness *heart eyes fully activated*

It was lunch time at Los Reyes School of Performing Arts, and that meant everyone — except for the unfortunate few who spent lunch time in detention in an isolated room — was gathered in the cafeteria to enjoy each other's company. Lunch time also meant recess of sorts, as in this time the courtyard was open to the students to let out their midday energy. For Willie, this meant one thing: skateboarding. 

He rode across the tile floor as if floating down the hallway. Riding indoors was against the rules, but he didn’t care much. His dad was the principal. That meant that he could do pretty much anything within the school walls. He was just restricted by one rule: wear a helmet. 

…

Merlin made his way through the hallways, feigning working every-so-often. It was his mission to find the boy with Arthur’s ring. He thought hard about it. The boy doesn’t fit the main description, brown eyes. But, I could sense his kindness, his loyalty to those he held dear. Perhaps if not him, then one of his friends. I must find out where he has gone. A great chorus of buzzing met his ears. The concentration of students in the cafeteria amplified their chatter, sending Merlin their way as if he was a moth to a flame. He turned the corner. Oof! He collided with a student and was sent sprawling on the floor.

…

Willie sat on his backside in a daze. “Woah, man.” He said woozily. “A little warning would have been nice.” But he wasn’t mad necessarily. Instead he offered the old man a funny smile. “Is it your first day or something?” He hoped to his feet, kicking up his board and placing it against the wall next to him. He offered the janitor a hand to help him up.

Merlin took it warily. “Who are you, boy? You are much like the other kid I met today; ripped clothing, unruly disposition. Are you a peasant as well?”  
“Well — okay. Look, I didn’t mean to knock into you like that. Sorry if I hurt you, or anything.” He smiled nonetheless, Willie was a very laid back person who didn’t like confrontation. “Can I help you with something?” Willie asked as Merlin was circling the boy, inspecting him.   
“Well built, right size…” He whispered under his breath. Could this be him? Could this be Arthur?

Willie took off his helmet. His chestnut locks glowed like a horse’s mane in the sunlight. His hair perfectly framed his gorgeous brown eyes. “Well?” Willie looked into Merlin’s eyes.  
Merlin stuttered. “Uh-I. I have to go now.” He turned to leave. Over his shoulder he shouted hoarsely, “Thank you, boy. Your kindness will not go unrewarded.”  
Willie shook his head as he mounted his skateboard. He started towards the courtyard. “Whatever, man.” He chuckled. 

…

Willie glided across the sidewalk towards his damsel in distress, Alex. Willie was always saving him from something. Today, his shirt was caught in the chain fence. Willie sighed. I told you not to eat at the table next to the fence, Alex. I knew something like this was going to happen. Aw, but your little pouty face...so cute. Willie skated effortlessly to the front of the table. “What’s going on?” He addressed the boys, Reggie, Luke, and Alex. “Any news from Dragon’s Breath?” Dragon’s Breath was the name of the boys’ cute little band they made in their garage. They performed small gigs here and there, but nothing more than at a coffee shop talent night or someone’s bar mitzvah. 

Luke and Reggie shook their heads. Alex fought with his favorite tee shirt. 

“No, no, no.” He exclaimed. “Not my favorite shirt.” He whined. “Willie, help.”  
Willie chuckled as he took off his helmet. “Sure, dude.” He went to his side. He fiddled with the fabric. “I don’t know, man.” He joked, “Might have to come off.” 

Alex shook his head fiercely. “Not an option. I don’t have a spare, and besides…” his words ran off, “this is my favorite shirt.”

Willie finally freed him, but it came at a cost. Alex’s shirt now had a large hole in it. Alex had yet to notice, so Willie feigned not being finished. He took the fabric in his hands. In another language unknown to the modern world, he whispered: you will restore your thread, stitch by stitch. Become as brothers: reunite. His eyes flashed orange-gold. Right in front of him, the hole closed. “There.” He exclaimed as Alex stared at his shirt in amazement.

“You are a genius, Willie!” Alex said, and the two clasped hands, holding one another for longer than a friend might. Alex let go shyly as Luke shot him a funny glance. “I mean, thanks...bro.” 

He ran his hand through his blonde locks. 

Willie gave him a one-sided smile and went to take his board. “Well, I’m off.” With a wave, he skated down the sidewalk. After gaining some momentum, he performed a perfect kickflip.

Alex sighed, twisting the ring on his finger around and around. “Isn’t he wonderful?” He asked a little too loudly.

Luke gave a dramatic sigh, placing his elbow on the table and resting his cheek on his hand. “Yea,” he said in a high-pitched voice, “dreamy.”

Alex punched him uncharacteristically hard in the shoulder. “Knock it off.” He said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nfkldjankdlnkcjla Don't you just love Willex moments!!! <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you enjoyed this! Make sure to leave kudos, comments, suggestions, etc. down below! Comment if you liked this and I'll be sure to let my sister know (I'm so jealous of how she wrote this!) Anyways, next time will follow Merlin's search for the mysterious brown eyes as he encounters several people who embody the spirit of Arthur. Who could it be?! Note: Future chapters will not be as long, as this chapter was more of an introduction to establish context. Everything after this point (aside from flashbacks) will be set in 2020.


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